In the chaos of early twentieth-century Russia, philosopher and historian Lev Karsavin (1882–1952) sought to reconcile faith, reason, and the depths of human emotion. Exiled and later imprisoned in the Soviet gulag, he developed a vision of “all-embracing unity,” where even love, suffering, and death reveal the presence of the divine. Professor Robert Slesinski’s book, Liebestod: The Philosophy of Lev Karsavin, explores this striking figure in Russian religious thought. Read More
Karsavin is often remembered as a historian of medieval Christianity, but as Slesinski shows, his philosophical writings – especially his meditations on love and death – reveal a deeply original and spiritual mind wrestling with the ultimate unity of all things.
Slesinski introduces Karsavin as a man whose intellectual life was inseparable from his emotional and spiritual struggles. His philosophy of Liebestod – literally “love-death” – was not an abstract speculation but a lived reality. Two works in particular frame this phase of his thinking: Petersburg Nights, 1922, a poetic dialogue on the nature of love, and Poem on Death (1931), a philosophical confession written in exile and spiritual exhaustion. Between these works lies the story of a man exiled from Soviet Russia, burdened by guilt over an affair with a young student, and seeking redemption through metaphysical reflection.
Slesinski recounts this drama with sensitivity, neither romanticizing nor judging. For Karsavin, love was both human passion and divine participation. He saw love as “all-unity” – a mysterious oneness that joins lovers, God, and creation in a single act of being. Even the pain, jealousy, and contradictions of human love revealed, for him, a longing for the infinite. “Love,” he wrote, “is eternity itself.”
In Slesinski’s reading, this insight makes Karsavin a thinker of profound daring: he unites erotic desire and religious devotion, the body and the soul, the carnal and the divine.
Yet Liebestod also gestures toward tragedy. For Karsavin, love and death are inseparable; love gives life meaning precisely because it faces mortality. His Poem on Death revisits this theme with stark honesty. Slesinski highlights how Karsavin’s meditations move from despair to faith – from rebellion against God to a surrender born of love. The philosopher who once wrote of the “demonic flood” of passion ends his life affirming that “to be God just a little” is to live in divine love.
Slesinski’s essay captures both the brilliance and the torment of Karsavin’s vision. It is a story of philosophy lived as confession, where metaphysics and heartbreak intertwine. In tracing how Karsavin’s experiences shaped his theology of “all-embracing unity,” Slesinski reveals not only a forgotten Russian thinker, but also a universal human truth: that love and death, creation and dissolution, are not opposites but two movements of the same divine rhythm.